


the swan sings once

by immortalcockroach (juggyjones)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 18:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20068450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juggyjones/pseuds/immortalcockroach
Summary: So he says, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.’It feels as if he’s said it before.But Clarke smiles, and she’s soft when she looks at him, and he wonders if she’s ever looked at him like this before. ‘You saved me.’---or, bellamy and clarke have been in love even before they were bellamy and clarke.





	the swan sings once

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How You Stay Alive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8483284) by [LaughingSenselessly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingSenselessly/pseuds/LaughingSenselessly). 

> The swan song (ancient Greek: κύκνειον ᾆσμα; Latin: carmen cygni) is a metaphorical phrase for a final gesture, effort, or performance given just before death or retirement.
> 
> basically a little half-soulmate-half-reincarnation half-canon ficlet. it was inspired by an amazing fic that i can't think the name of, but i'll try to find it.

Blake is dead.

He doesn’t go to heaven or hell, and he doesn’t find himself at a river leading him underground. Death, if anything, resembles more of a long hallway that takes the shape of an ancient castle than anything else. A cold breeze comes from somewhere behind him even though he sees no ends, turns, or doors it could come from. It tugs at his clothes and ruffles his hair and he steps forward.

Memories of his life flash in the back of his mind, too far away from him to reach. There is a sense of urgency, now, boiling in his gut. He puts one foot in front of the other and the breeze picks up on strength until it’s a wind, and he’s running.

It doesn’t look like he’s moving at all.

Blake has died. If he wants to find out anything more than that, he needs to reach the end of that hallway.

Urgency becomes despair. Flashes become bombs. Running becomes sprinting until his legs give in.

Blake falls, hard. He pushes against the cold stones beneath him, but the wind is stronger, and he falls, again. He trembles. He whimpers, because he remembers, and it hurts more than any physical pain he could imagine. If he only had a moment—

He’s dead. He has all the time in the world.

When he gives in to the moment, the wind falls back to a breeze. His body lowers until all of it is touching the ground, his face pressed against one of the stones. For the first time, Blake breathes. He closes his eyes and the hallway disappears, yet the stones are still rough underneath his cheeks, and he can still feel her fingers on them.

He falls one more time and this time, it’s into a memory.

The air coming through his nostrils carries the stench of chaos; dirt, gas, and metallic smell of blood. He doesn’t open his eyes just yet. Instead, he waits until he can hear the gunshots not too far away from where he is. They go from muffled and distorted to loud and deafening, but they’re far from the only sound he hears – people shouting orders, others calling the names of their loved ones, and some asking what the hell is going on. Fear, too, reeks.

Gunshots come in and out of focus, but they’re not what he’s listening for. They never come closer, but they don’t have to – the burning in his side tells him the damage has already been done.

Blake opens his eyes. His back is pressed against a wall, right next to the store whose windows have all turned into shattered glass. He can see people wearing black uniforms wield guns and pistols, hiding behind columns and shooting at a dozen places at once. People are hiding behind those same columns, crouching and trembling in fear, holding tightly on to their friends, family, maybe even strangers. He recognizes some of them, some of the officers and security guards, even the ones lying on the floor in pools of blood.

One of the men hiding behind a column closest to him turns around. He tucks his pistol at the hoop of his belt, pauses for a second, and lunges for Blake. His hands scoop Blake’s torso and he drags them both away, into the store through the broken glass, almost dropping him at the ground once they’re hidden from most of the chaos.

Blake winces. The glass shards cut into some parts of his body, but it doesn’t hurt beyond a sting.

‘Blake, you shouldn’t be here.’ His commanding officer scans his body with his eyes. ‘Stay here until this is over.’

But Blake only shakes his head and props himself against the wall, feeling a little more stable this way. He tries not to wince again. ‘It’s not going to be over anytime soon. It’s war.’

‘A terrorist attack.’

One of the people next to them scoffs. A middle-aged woman, with blood covering the front of her blouse, but no wounds. ‘Terrorists,’ she repeats. ‘You’re fighting your own people and it’s only getting worse. With all due respect, officer, we all know better than to dismiss this as just a one-off event.’

‘With all due respect, ma’am, that’s not yours to declare.’

‘We’ll all perish, eventually.’

The confidence in this woman’s voice makes Blake squirm and his superior glare at her. There is a beat of silence in which Blake feels like he’s woken up. He turns to the woman and ignores the intense burning in his side, putting on his best officer face he can manage in this situation.

‘Stay here until it’s over. We’ve got people covering all exits and we’re trying to keep the casualties to a minimum. However, if you’re well enough to talk about this, you’re well enough to help the wounded. It’s best that you all get to a safe place and try to get everybody to cooperate. Help the wounded, stay safe. That should be everybody’s priority.’

It might be the demand in his voice or the fact that he’s noticeably wounded, but the woman nods, curtly, and joins a group of people in the back.

Blake presses his wound and grunts, wincing a little more noticeably. His fingers touch the side of his back, but there’s nothing to find. He curses, jaw clenched. ‘The bullet is still inside.’ Blood is gushing out of him, too, seeping through his fingers like water.

‘Telling her to go tell the wounded and you’re probably the most injured,’ his superior murmurs. ‘Don’t move. We’ll get you some help. She can come back—’

‘No. Civilians first.’ He looks to where the woman went and notices young people, some even with children. ‘There’s kids. Give me a pistol and I’ll protect them.’

‘Blake, you can hardly move. This is no place for heroes.’

‘Just give me the damn pistol, Captain. Someone has to be on the lookout. I have to – I have to be useful.’

The Captain sighs, but Blake can tell he’s giving in. He’s resilient, both of them are, and stubborn, but they both also know they’re short on men. They’ve already lost too many officers in previous attacks, and this one hasn’t spared them, either.

‘Promise me you’ll stay here.’ Blake gets the pistol, but also the warning. ‘You can’t go out looking for her. She’s safe.’

‘I promise, Captain.’

He’s left to his own devices within moments, and the gunshots are no quieter than they were before. Blake lets out a shaky breath and his vision goes hazy. His body is almost limp and the blood doesn’t stop gushing. It smells, it reeks, and people are screaming but he can barely hear them. The pistol sits cold on his palm and he grips it, a little tight, holding onto it for reality.

He remembers this moment. He remembers this as the moment he chose to die on his own terms, because there was no going back. He dies on that day, inside this mall, surrounded by death and terror and death.

When he gets on his feet, he leaves a trail of blood on the wall. He moves with the grace of a toddler and stumbles more than he walks, but he makes it to the first column. People around him ask questions, beg for help, and he makes promises that won’t matter in a couple of minutes. Dead men don’t fulfil their promises.

But there’s one he promised when death wasn’t even around the corner, let alone dragging him by the foot into the grave. A promise made to the woman he loves and he’ll keep it even if it means he dies trying.

So he stumbles to the next column, and the next, and focuses on her face in his mind. He sees it so clearly – a little rounded, shaped effortlessly by long, blonde wavy hair, a beauty mark over her lip as she smiles so _kindly_, so effervescently. He hears her voice call his name and he hears it as he keeps going even though his body is shutting down.

People try to stop him. Other officers, people he’s worked with for years, strangers. Some want to save him, others want him to save them.

Someone shoots him. He doesn’t notice, at first, but he stumbles and doesn’t get up. It’s his shoulder that’s on fire and his eyes water, and the world is turned to the side. He sees red and orange and smells fire and he smells blood, too, feels it when the warmth reaches his cheeks.

Blake crawls. He tugs himself with his legs and the arm that wasn’t shot through, and he crawls towards the café shop where he left her.

He sees her face, again, and she calls him, again. He sees her hiding under a table, but her hair is just a little wrong, and it might not be Elizabeth.

He sees a little boy right next to her, and his heart skips a beat when he thinks it’s Fabien, but it’s not. It’s not his son. It’s not his wife.

Blake doesn’t know what’s real and what isn’t, but he crawls. Maybe he’s not moving at all. Maybe the reason the pain is going away is because he is going away, too, before making to fulfil his promise to his Elizabeth. Before he protects her and saves her away from all evil.

He crawls until his body turns limp and there is only a trail of blood behind him, arms outstretched towards a small café inside the mall. His heart gives up long before the terrorists are vanquished from the mall, until people are free to go.

Bradbury Blake dies not knowing if his wife made it out.

When he opens his eyes again, his cheek is still pressed against the ground, expect it’s not cold and there’s no blood covering the stones. He doesn’t move, but he trembles. Shakes. Where he’s been shot, he feels faint pain, but he knows it isn’t real. He’s dead. He can’t feel pain.

He pushes against the ground and the breeze helps him to his feet, somehow. He has Elizabeth’s face in his mind and Fabien in his heart, and he walks forward despite his legs feeling like trunks. He learns to walk again, towards the end of the hallway, where something will happen.

In that moment, he prays, with his wife’s name on his lips. He prays to protect her. To fulfil her promise.

When he runs this time, he doesn’t let his body give up on him. The hallway remains the same and the light that comes from seemingly nowhere doesn’t change, but Blake does. He becomes impervious to the fear the hallway tries drowning him in, and pushes all the memories away apart from the face of the woman he loves. He keeps his son in his heart – but it’s Elizabeth who gives him the strength.

The end of the hallway are doors. He stops once he reaches them, coming down to a halt at once. They’re masonry and they’re bigger than he’d think fits the measurements of the hallway, yet somehow it doesn’t seem out of place. The air is filled with warnings, intimidation, and something else Blake can’t quite feel.

His hand rests on one of the doorknobs, and Blake knows what this is. His promise.

If he goes through that door, he has the chance to fulfil it, but it won’t be the same. It won’t be his Elizabeth the way he knows her, and it won’t be their Fabien, either.

Still, he believes. He has faith that when he comes back, he’ll find them, and his soul will recognize theirs.

So pushes the doors.

It’s cold and it’s snowing, and it’s a graveyard. He sees a woman standing on her own, in front of a fresh grave, face so broken it shows nothing. Blake reaches for her but she feels empty when his fingers go through her.

‘Elizabeth,’ he whispers. The skin on her neck shivers and she shudders, but beyond that, nothing happens. His throat hurts when he swallows. He feels his time is running out. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.’

He wishes he could say so much more. How much he loves her, and cares for her, and how glad he is she’s okay. But their world is chaos and everything is becoming dangerous and the planet is dying from seven reasons at once, and he knows he won’t be able to protect her or Fabien from that.

Elizabeth closes her eyes. He feels himself fading away, but he still tries to reach for her cheek.

‘You saved me,’ she whispers.

All fades away, but the tears sliding down his cheeks are salty and, more than anything, real. He knows this is the closest to a goodbye that he’ll ever get. He’s ready to do it again. To try to save them. To love them even if it kills him, again.

Six generations from Officer Blake, a Bellamy Blake is born in space. He learns the same boundless, devotional love his family has always had in their genes. He loves the way his ancestor does – without a word, and completely. He risks everything for his little sister and he protects as he was always supposed to be. He learns to love and he learns to lose, and there is always something nagging him that the universe has something more in store for him.

When he sees Clarke Griffin for the first time, he knows he has to protect her. It’s the mole above her lip and the blonde of her wavy hair and the way she’s demanding and knows exactly what she wants that throws him off his rhythm. She is his equal in every way, and when he calls her Princess, it feels as if he’s already called her that in some other time.

He protects Octavia because she is his little sister and he would do anything for her, but this is different. Everything inside him burns to protect Clarke.

Scared, Bellamy dates other people. He has sex with blondes who look a little bit like Clarke because he can’t get her face out of his head, and he dates Gina because she’s soft and caring the way he _understands _Clarke is, and he dates Echo because she’s resilient and determined and it feels all too familiar.

But it’s always Clarke he feels the need to protect. It’s beyond rational, almost an impulse – and when he can’t, it shatters him. When he’s away from her for years, it shatters him. When he comes back and finds out she’s not only alive, but with a child he recognizes at his core, Bellamy can’t deny it anymore.

So he apologizes, when they’re on Sanctum, and finally have a chance at peace. Maybe their sins will go away, as the people here believe. Maybe he can figure out why he can’t think rationally when it comes to protecting her. Maybe he can understand the love he can’t figure out.

So he says, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.’

It feels as if he’s said it before.

But Clarke smiles, and she’s soft when she looks at him, and he wonders if she’s ever looked at him like this before. ‘You saved me.’

When he thinks she’s died again, and he failed to protect again, he shatters again. When he sees her telling him she isn’t dead, he recognizes the persistence and he knows she’s the woman he’s loved this whole time. He knows his soul recognizes hers in a way he hasn’t had before, and he knows Madi is a part of that, too.

And when he thinks he’s lost her – when he heart stops beating and Gabriel says there is no way of saving her – when Octavia wants him to stop – he fights. A part of him remembers, crawling on the floor, getting shot and bleeding out to save her. He remembers failing to protect her. Breaking his promise through death.

Bradbury Blake or Bellamy Blake, they love the woman in front of him, and Bellamy screams until she knows it. Elizabeth Blake or Clarke Griffin, the woman comes back to him.

He saved her. He protected her. And maybe this time, it’ll be permanent.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this! i'd love to hear your thoughts and comments. i loved writing this. as per usual, you can find me on tumblr as [bellarkesgodson](https://bellarkesgodson.tumblr.com/) (i also take requests)


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